fucking sigh

ok well the only reason i came on here tonite was to see if there was a way to get my last post into my 'regular' blog. right now it's there, but you have to go under the July 2005 link to see it which pisses me off. I fucking don't understand these things.
I am finally finished my 5 weeks at Urban restuant tomorrow. Fucking 9 more hours to go, and i don't know if i'll fucking make it. Stupid fucking Imran almost made me leave early today. I can take a fucking joke, but I said out loud so everyone cold hear, 'Make one more reference to me being gay and I'm fucking out of here.'
Motherfucker goes, 'Will hasn't had sex in while. Theres a carrot.' So I dropped what I was doing and went to go get the change room key to leave. Fucker meets me in there and was all like "sorry, sorry I didnt hear. I thought we were cool about it."
I wanted tp beat him with a bat.
That fucking resturant go the best of me in the worst way. On the plus side, went out for drinks last nite and chef bought me 3 tequlia shots and tonite he bought me 4 drinks. Makes up for his asshole-ism over the past month.
I start my new job Monday and am going to Montreal Friday. Yay! spending money I don't have. Loves it.

The beauty of a car wreck

I wanted to describe my life right now as something, terrible. Something grotesque. If my life were a painting I'd use pig's blood and splatter all over the place. there would be the spiderweb of a smashed windsheild. I'd make sure that there was exposed bone and muscle and inards. But while the painting would be devestating, it would be beautiful. It would be everything. Life and death. It wouldn't make any connection to who the people were, who were the people in the other car, who did they leave behind. All of that wouldn't matter for the beauty of the car wreck.

A little over a week since my last blog and I've pretty much been working. I worked Thurs-Tues. No Wed-Tues. It's just Wed and Friday i got off early and it was brilliant. Wednesday I went to Potts and chilled. It was too cold to swim. Friday I went to broken social scene when the played Dundas Square. They were pretty good. But their set got cut short because the stupid pink french giraffes went on too long. far too long.
However I got to see Julia and boatys. Which was fantastic. Through them I know, #1, I'm not a loser because they're cool people and #2, I didn't waste all my time at western, because well I met cool people. sigh. I can't wait to get back to london.
Last night, or yesterday I should rightly say, was another ray of sunshine and the shit storm of my life. I spent the afternoon with my dear Leanne. We haven't had quailty chillin time, well in a week. Then we met up with Mel, Rachel and Jenn. Smoked a big jay, and chilled. The sun was slowly going down, the cirlce was shaddy. It was just what i needed. It was a spoonful of sugar. Then we went out for chinese food. Golden. Ate too much. Golden. went to a resturant across the street from my grandmother's apartment. I didn't even know it was there. Or that it was so good.
Now back at the park, were talking about things which we might do to occupy the nite. I suggested we go see a fringe show, however that quickly turned into, 'let's go drinking'. I'd been drinking sun and mon so i really could have gone without, but you know me. Mufty called and wanted to go out too, and really it was his own fault, because he was one who suggested that we pre-drink. Well that lead to use deciding to just drink in the park. Like old times. And it was like old times.
Last summer we had so many piss-drunk, just shit face nites at our circle. It was the most carefree summer ever. Compared to then, this summer is more like the barf part of last year. Anyways last nite was just a great encore of last year. We drink cheap wine and beer, and chained smoked. we pissed in the bushed. we rolled down the hill. It was just great. and I just wanted to remember that.
Tonite Matt Good. its gonna be great.

Lets go with, %*&#$$$~$%***&!!!!!

I'm so angry right now I don't even know just how to express it. It's 10:30 on sunday morning and I have just finished bitching out my mother. Why you might ask, well a little earlier than that, she woke me up as she tip-toed over me carrying my back pack. I rolled back over to catch somemore zzz's but as the sleep faed my mind began to put things together and I realized that she was bringing back my bag. That little fucking bitch was going thorugh my shit while I was asleep. WHAT THE FUCK!?!?!?!?
Like fucking really I thought that was shit that fuckinh psyhcos do on TV. I knew she was a psyhco, but thats fucking low. Fucking low. Like, speechless.
The starfid solution, buying a fucking lock for my door, TODAY. No more fucking around with this woman, and I'm calling it now, she will fucking get whats coming to her.
[If she dies mysteriously in the next two months, police I SWEAR it wasn't me. I woulda killed her 100x over if I was ever going to do it. I'm going back to university in September, so motive and opterunity are there, but reason is lacking. Not to say if she dies I wouldn't be happy.]

Harsh? Fuck that shit, I would totally trip her down stairs, if we had the luxury of living in a house with some. I know I'll make this blog the, just how much I hate my mother blog.

The last time I remember remembering that I loved my mother was. April, 2002. Sounds right. I was playing junior rugby at my high school and some fuck clipped me at the knees and dislocated my left kneecap. The coachs gathered around me and all four of then with their kenisiology degrees had been brainwashed in teacher's college. "What do you never want against you?" all in chours "a lawsuit." "And how do you avoid that?" again,"Don't touch the kids."
And So I sat on the feild for hlaf an hour bethe amblulence came, which took like 45 mins and then sat in the ER for like the next 3 hours. The doctor looked at me in the hallway and popped my knee back in like 25 seconds. Stupid fucking coachs. Anyways during my 3 hour wait I had nothing the scenery around me to keep my company, oh and the constant pain on my twisted knee. So I took it upon myself to do what any other queerbox 15 year old would to and feel so bad for myself that I began to bawl. Just as the tears started to flow, there she was, that bitch. I hated her for coming to my 'rescue' but she would hold me and thats all I really needed. Now let it be known that I doubt she really gave two fucks what happened to me or if I would be ok, she was pissed she had to waste the bus fare coming to see me. I HATE HER.
I love how that story was supposed to be her legacy of my one endering memory and then disintigrated to I HATE HER. But see thats the entire point. I hate her completely, there has never been a real love point past like fuck 6 or 7 and even then it was more of that fear/love that beating your child will cultivate. I used to have and to some extent still do have the apprichiative emotion to her that no one would call love. I like the way I turned out is what i mean, so yes she succeed in raising me, but at very little else. Shes a really easy scapegoat too. Shes crazy so I can and do blame her for all the shit thats wrong with my life. And i figure for all the shit shes put me through its an even fucking trade.
Shes like a plauge I just realized, really and truly, verything she touchest turnes to shit. And that is where my empathy used to kick in. I used to say, Jesus if shes fuct up this bad in the past 20 years what the fuck was life like before me. I was a mistake you know. I don't hold it against her, I hear a lot of kids from my generation are mistakes. But yeah, she seems to me to be a complete and utter fuck up. The whole empathy thing is realted to the fact a lot of the shit if out of her control, and yet at the same time and this is where the hate part comes in, she does little or nothing to change or move forward, she is perpetually in a backward motion. Which is why i moved away in the fisrt place.

In other news, pride was good. I missed broken social scene and modest mouse. work still sucks but i've decided to give them my two weeks notice and go back to fencing. I think. And yesterday i went out to missasauga to see mike. we smoked mad bowls and drank tom collins, damn you leanne. Anyways I have to get ready and make my way to bridlewood to get this fucking lock. God have mercy on my soul. And some her's, but not too much now. Fucking bitch.